"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" spat Snape. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive --" 

"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.

 "And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Snape. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds." 

"That was because you were knocked out, Professor!" said Hermione earnestly. "You didn't arrive in time to hear

 "Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!" 

"Zip it slimeball!" shouted Amelia standing up again, the fire that lit up her eyes in times of anger was burning bright.

"Now, Snape," said Fudge, startled, "the young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances --" 

"I would like to speak to Harry, Hermione, and Amelia alone," said Dumbledore abruptly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy -- please leave us." 

"Headmaster!" sputtered Madam Pomfrey. "They need treatment, they need rest --" 

"This cannot wait," said Dumbledore. "I must insist."

 Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips and strode away into her office at the end of the ward, slamming the door behind her. Fudge consulted the large gold pocket watch dangling from his waistcoat. 

"The dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

 He crossed to the door and held it open for Snape, but Snape hadn't moved. 

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's face.